


That murdered boy

by Ischa



Series: Halloween 2014 [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Haunting, M/M, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2536064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jason is haunting Tim’s new place. </p><p>
  <i>“Nightmares,” Tim replied.  </i>
  <br/>
  <i>“About your dad?” Dick asked, it was always about their parents. But Tim was pretty much over it now. Over the guilt and rage and hatred.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“No,” Tim said. It was stupid. It was just a nightmare. Every night the same nightmare, if he didn’t know better he would’ve said it was a way of communication. Like a lost S.O.S.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	That murdered boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [V-bird](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=V-bird).



> Beta Icalynn.
> 
> Prompt was: 'Tim knows there's someone watching him, someone who seems to follow him everywhere he goes in his new house, and things get frightening when he starts dreaming of a guy (Jason) pinning him to his bed, and slicing off his clothes with a switchblade. But before he takes Tim, he always wakes up; and at first feeling VERY scared. Then aroused.  
> Then a burglary at his home is stopped, when a unseen figure knocks the invader down his stairs.'  
> If you like, I can give you more ideas, or let you come up with something. ;)  
> Bonus Points: 'Wheelchair bound psychic Barbara shows up, and does a reading on his house. Telling him of past events.'  
> "I'd like to know why you dream of knives..."  
> Also, have concerned worried Police Officer Dick.  
> For V-bird

Tim woke up panting and sweating and grabbing the sheets so hard he was nearly tearing them. He took a deep breath, just like Bruce taught him – let the panic leave his body slowly. Just another nightmare. Since he bought the house and started living here, sleeping here, the nightmares came nearly every night. 

Maybe it was the silence. Maybe he missed having Damian and Titus around. Dick, Alfred, even Bruce – even if Bruce was hardly ever awake when Tim was. 

He let his breath out slowly and sat up. 

The room was dark and the only thing he could hear was his own breath and the wind outside. 

Nothing to fear. 

Right. 

~+~

“You look like shit,” Dick said, handing him a coffee, as he entered the house. 

Tim nodded a thanks as he took it and closed the door. “Why are you here?” 

“I need some help with a case and besides I haven’t been here since you moved in. Unpacked your boxes already?” Dick teased. 

Tim smiled. All he wanted to do was just lean into Dick and close his eyes, because Dick was solid and safe and warm. And he was so tired. 

“Yeah, I did.” He said. 

Dick looked at him, then took the paper cup with coffee away again and set both his and Tim’s on the counter. He grabbed Tim and pulled him in. Tim sighed in relief. It was hard to ask for these things, but he accepted Dick’s hugs and touches gratefully. 

“What’s going on?” Dick asked gently.

“Can’t sleep,” Tim mumbled against Dick’s chest. 

“Okay?” 

“Nightmares,” Tim replied. 

“About your dad?” Dick asked, it was always about their parents. But Tim was pretty much over it now. Over the guilt and rage and hatred.

“No,” Tim said. It was stupid. It was just a nightmare. Every night the same nightmare, if he didn’t know better he would’ve said it was a way of communication. Like a lost S.O.S.

“Wanna talk about it?” Dick asked. 

Tim shook his head. “No, it’s fine for now.”

“Okay, but I’m here to listen and rub your belly and kiss it better,” Dick said, kissing the top of Tim’s head. 

Tim knew that. It was good to know that. “Thanks. So about your case,” Tim said, pulling away. 

Dick nodded and grabbed the coffee, following Tim into the office. 

~+~

Another night, another nightmare. Tim was struggling to wake up. The man, the boy, so achingly familiar for some reason, was pressing down on him. He was bigger and stronger and Tim couldn’t see his face, but a part of him knew that boy anyway. The weight of him nearly crushed Tim and then the boy leaned in and his breath was cold and there was a knife – Tim woke up and got out of the bed and just breathed. It was getting worse. Progressively, steadily worse. 

“Fuck,” Tim said into the empty house. “Fuck.” 

~+~

Tim worked on cases and then he worked out in the gym and then he fell into bed and hoped that he was too exhausted to dream. 

He needed to be at his best these days, what with Dick training Damian and Bruce being away on League business. Gotham was always worse in October. 

It was like a slow slide into madness. 

Like what Tim was experiencing right now as soon as he fell asleep.

The boy was there again, because he always was, waiting in the shadows of Tim’s brain. He was straddling Tim and Tim was looking up at him, he couldn’t move his hands. He was pretty sure they were bound above his head, but he could not feel any handcuffs or rope. The boy cocked his head, his face was still in shadow and Tim took a breath. Maybe if he let it play out to the end, maybe it would stop then.

The boy leaned in and the knife was in his hand, Tim fought the urge to close his eyes and willed himself to stay here. In this nightmare. 

The boy relaxed. It was in his shoulders and in the way he held that knife. And then he started to cut Tim out of his – uniform. He was in his Robin suit in this dream. The boy worked slowly and methodically. His hands sweeping away pieces of the armor and the underwear underneath. Brushing Tim’s skin gently, nearly like a lover would. Tim wanted to arch into the touch, into that delicious friction on his nipples. He was getting hard over this. He started to struggle and the boy got mad and the knife came down: Tim woke up. Hard and aching and panting. 

This was seriously fucked up. 

~+~

“Ghosts,” Dick said at once when Tim told him about the nightmares. 

“Right,” Tim said, crossing his arms over his chest. His nipples were kinda sensitive today, because that boy had been playing with them and – he took a breath. Not the time or place to relive that particular dream moment. He was confused how he could get hard so fast while someone threated him with a fucking knife. 

“Tim, we’ve seen stranger things.” 

“Science,” Tim said stubbornly. 

Dick gave him a look. “Humor me and let’s just find out more about the house, yeah?”

“Fine,” Tim replied. 

“If he’s coming every night, whatever he has to say must be urgent,” Dick said.

“All I can say is he doesn’t talk, he just sits on my chest, legs or lap and cuts away my clothes and then when he gets mad he’s stabbing me Dick. Fuck.” 

Dick pulled him against his side and Tim curled into Dick’s warm body. He felt so tired and cold and sexually frustrated. 

“You know stabbing and swords or knives are a dream symbol…for sex.” 

“Dick.” Tim said. 

“I didn’t make that up,” Dick replied. “I looked it up. Is there a sexual-”

“Dick,” Tim cut in. 

“Okay. I take it as a yes ‘cause I’m an awesome detective,” Dick said. “Maybe you should-”

“Let him fuck me with that knife and hope that’s what he wants, so it’ll stop? And maybe just maybe I won’t bleed out from it?” Tim snapped. 

Dick hugged him closer and then he kissed the side of Tim’s face, the corner of his mouth, his lips and soon they were kissing hard and messy and Tim was straddling Dick, rubbing against Dick. He felt so needy. Dick’s hand was sliding down his back and grabbed his ass. Tim moaned. 

“Yeah?” Dick asked. 

“Yeah,” Tim said, kissing Dick again. Dick was good at this, coordinating them, soon he had Tim’s pants open and his cock was rubbing against Dick’s in that way that made Tim bite his lip. He was nearly there and then the pain came like a stab wound to his back and he cried out, clutching at Dick. 

~+~

“Shit,” Dick said, “You scared me.” He looked pale. 

“What happened?” Tim asked. He was lying on the couch and Dick was hovering over him. 

“You passed out and not in the sexy way either, Tim. Fuck. What the hell happened?”

“He stabbed me,” Tim said tonelessly. “In the back.”

“I think you need to come home with me,” Dick replied. It was his no nonsense voice. Tim was so ready to give in. He nodded. 

“We will still look into this, right?” Tim asked. 

“Yes,” Dick answered, bending down and kissing his forehead. “Yes, we will.” 

~+~

There wasn’t much on the house. Nothing really, no murders whatsoever. It had been abandoned for years before Tim bought it and fixed it up. 

“Kids used to sleep here,” Dick said. “Back in the day. Homeless kids. But there is nothing in the police files that could tell us why this house it haunted.” He was rubbing Tim’s neck in that soothing way of his. 

Tim put the files down. “Homeless kids. Hookers? Drug dealers? Junkies?” 

“Sure. Driftwood of the night.” 

“Maybe one of those kids died there…maybe he wasn’t found, maybe I should take apart the basement and flooring-”

“Whoa, whoa, you sound like a crazy person from a horror movie,” Dick cut in. 

“Yeah? That’s ‘cause I live in one.” 

“You can stay here as long as you need to,” Dick said. 

“Dick, I bought a house and fixed it up to be a home. I – it’s my home. I like it.”

“Except for the stabbing and nightmares and what basically amounts to rape attempts.” Dick said sternly. 

Yeah, that was fair. 

~+~

“I can’t believe you got Damian involved,” Tim said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“He found the files.” 

“Because your encryptions are shit, Grayson,” Damian snapped. “Besides: Grandfather with a mystical pit that brings people back from the death.” 

“And still all you can come up with is a séance, like it’s 1879,” Tim replied. 

“You can dress up if you want,” Dick threw in. 

Tim rolled his eyes. “No.” 

“It’s not a classic to contact the spirits for nothing,” Damian replied taking out the Ouija board. 

Tim didn’t have a better idea, he sighed. “Fine.” 

~+~

The Ouija board was a bust. Nothing happened. By one o’clock Dick was yawning and Damian looked like he was bored out of his mind. 

Tim pushed the board away. 

“Bedtime for little vigilantes,” Dick said. 

“I know 57 ways to kill you with my bare hands, Grayson,” Damian replied. 

Dick ruffled his hair. Damian made that irritating tt noise. 

Tim was beat, he needed sleep and with Dick and Damian there he thought, maybe, maybe he could sleep in his own house without any disturbance. 

“We’re staying here,” Dick said. 

Damian nodded and then got up to grab his overnight bag. 

“Thanks,” Tim said. 

“Don’t mention it,” Dick replied. 

~+~

Tim woke to noises coming from the guestroom two doors down the hall. He was up and about in seconds. He could feel his skin prickle with something. An awareness but he didn’t stop to think about it, just ran to where Dick was sleeping. 

The door was open and Damian was straddling Dick. A kitchen knife in his hand. Dick was just looking at him and he looked terrified.

It was so wrong, Tim thought. Dick should have been able to throw Damian off, but he just – he didn’t. 

“This is how it happened,” someone said softly beside him. Tim spun around, but there was no one there. “Look.”

And Tim did in horror as Damian cut away the clothes and Dick was struggling and – he knew what would happen next. “Make them stop,” Tim whispered. “Please.” 

“He used the knife,” the boy said. “I…liked it at the beginning. It was exciting. It went too far.” 

“You died.”

“I was murdered!” The boy hissed. “And he did nothing to avenge me!” 

“He?” Tim asked. 

“Bruce,” the boy said. “He promised me everything and then I died and he did nothing.” 

Tim was confused. Damian was raising the knife and Tim didn’t think about it, just ran and knocked Damian out. The spell broke. 

“What the fuck,” Dick said. “What the fuck.” 

“We need to talk,” Tim said. 

~+~

“His name was Jason,” Dick said, rubbing at his eyes. Damian was still out upstairs. And they decided to let him sleep. 

“And he was Robin?” Tim asked confused. 

“No, he should have been but then he vanished. Bruce looked, but couldn’t find him. He never gave up, but the case went cold and he kinda lost it-” 

“I know, that’s how I got the job,” Tim said. 

“Don’t I know it,” Dick said. “Maybe he thought the kid was better off without him, maybe it was because he had run away before – they had a complicated relationship.”

Tim wasn’t sure he wanted the details. “Now we know he didn’t run away, he died here. Was murdered here and his body was never found.” 

“What now?” Dick asked. 

“We find that bastard who killed him,” Tim said. 

Dick nodded. 

~+~

With Jason’s help, it took them only three days to find the guy and to prevent another murder. 

Tim had though that now Jason could rest. But that was not the case. Jason’s presence was everywhere and it was only slightly less angry. 

“Find my body,” Jason whispered at night when he was touching Tim in a way that made it hard to say no or concentrate on anything other than the pleasure. “Find my body.” 

“And then?” Tim gasped. 

Jason’s mouth was around his cock, or inside his cock, it was such a strange sensation. It made Tim’s toes curl. The pleasure was unbearable he needed to come so badly. 

“And then you’ll dump me in that pit,” Jason whispered. 

Tim struggled to – something. Something about that idea wasn’t good. Wasn’t- Jason’s fingers were inside him and his mouth –“Yes!”

Jason toyed for another few endless moments before he let Tim come. “You better keep that promise,” Jason said. 

Tim wasn’t sure if it was a threat, but he was too tangled in Jason and his needs to care. He would find Jason’s body and he would bring him back.


End file.
